Fowl Attack
by The Hobbit Lass
Summary: Oh dear! Will wakes up and finds himself being attacked by chickens! Will Norrington come to his aid or will he just sit around and powder his wig? Read and find out! Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, and Pirates of the Caribbean does not own me. (At least I hope not)

Fowl Attack

The sun shined brightly on the face of Will Turner, as he lay sprawled on the dirty ground. He spat dust out of his mouth and continued to lay there, his eyes closed.

_Where am I?_ he wondered. He recalled being struck on the head by a pirate, but could remember nothing else.

Suddenly, he felt as if his hair was being tugged out by the roots. He screamed and his eyes flew open. Whatever was pulling on his hair continued to do so, and he felt his clothing being yanked on as well. He looked around him and saw his assailants. "Chickens!"

"Cluck!" clucked a chicken who was busily pecking at his shirt sleeve. Will swatted the animal away. It flapped its wings in a startled manner, and then went right back to pecking at his shirt.

Will stood up. "Back away from me, you fiends!" He aimed a kick at one of the chickens and missed. The chickens clucked and flapped their wings angrily, and began pecking furiously at his shoes and pants.

Will yelped as a chicken nipped his leg. He picked up the creature and threw it as far as he could, and then threw another chicken, and then threw all the rest until they were all gone. At least, he thought they were gone.

"CLUCK!" The chickens ran towards him in a stampede, their beady eyes flashing maliciously. The chickens had returned. There was only one thing that Will could do now. He burst into tears and ran.

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! The chickens! The chickens are attacking!"

A man standing off to the side threw a bottle at him. "Shut yer mouth, boy! Chickens is the decentest creatures 'oo ever lived!" He grabbed a chicken and gave it a fond hug. The chicken bit on him on the ear and ran after Will. The man cursed and went to get himself an ale.

Will ran around wildly, unsure of what to do. He suddenly spotted Norrington, pompously discussing something with the governor and a couple of other men. He ran over to the commodore, panting and sweating. "The chickens!" He paused to catch his breath. "They're attacking! They're attacking me!"

Norrington waved a pompous hand irritably. "Mr. Murtogg, remove this man."

But Will insisted on being heard. "You have to hunt them down! You must save me!"

"And where do you propose we start on this chicken hunt?" Governor Swann asked. "If you have any information concerning the slaughter of domestic fowl, please share it."

Murtogg raised his hand. "Ooh, me! Pick on me! I have something to say!"

Norrington rolled his eyes pompously. "What is it, Mr. Murtogg?"

"That Jack Sparrow. He talked about the Chicken Chopper."

"Mentioned it, is more what he did," added Mullroy. Murtogg stomped on his foot. "Hey! You never raised your hand to speak! I'm telling your mother!"

Mullroy looked panicked and began to cry pathetically. "Not my mother! She'll punish me and will take away my favorite wig and my favorite wig powder!" He cried even harder.

Will ignored the crying soldier and went on with business. "Ask him where it is! Make a deal with him. He could lead us to this Chicken Chopper."

"No," said Norrington pompously. "The chickens who invaded this Fort left Sparrow locked in his cell, ergo they are not his chickens. Governor, we will establish their more likely chicken coop..."

Will buried his hatchet into Norrington's head.

No, not really. That's just what he wished to do. No, instead, Will buried his hatchet into a conveniently placed table. "That's not good enough!"

Norrington pompously removed the hatchet out of the table. "Mr. Turner, you are not a poultry man, you are not a farmer. You are a blacksmith, and this is not the moment for rash butchering. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for roast chicken."

Will burst into tears. "You're mean!" He snatched his hatchet out of Norrington's pompous hand and ran off. "I'll just have to demolish those chickens myself- GASP!"

Will had suddenly gasped loudly because standing before him was none other than the pack of murderous chickens. "Cluck!"

He brandished his hatchet. "Bring it on, you pathetic flightless birds!"

One of the chickens, the leader by the looks of it, advanced on Will. Will brought his hatchet down lower to the chicken's level. Just as he was about to strike, to his surprise, the chicken rapidly wrenched the hatchet out of his hand and carried it in its beak.

"CLUCK!" clucked the other chickens victoriously.

Will was now very frightened. He whimpered and backed himself into a corner, which everyone except for the very foolish knows is a very bad idea. The chickens came closer... and closer... they were closing in on him...

"Oi there!" yelled a voice. A familiar voice. Will felt his hope regenerate.

"Get away from the lad, ye bloody birds!" None other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had arrived, just in the nick of time. He held out a fierce looking weapon: the famous Chicken Chopper, which all chickens feared. "Back away from him, or I'm goin' to have chicken soup tonight!"

The chickens squawked and immediately fled. The leader of the chickens dropped Will's hatchet and followed its pack.

Will came out of his corner. "Thank you, Jack. How did you find me?"

"Ye were screamin' so loud that even a deaf man could find ye, lad," Jack replied. He stared after the straggling chickens that were still in the process of running away. "Pity. I was feelin' hungry for chicken." He clapped Will on the shoulder. "Well, gotta go. I've got a few matters of importance to take care of." He smiled and nodded to Will, and walked away.

Will breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I'm glad that's over with." He picked up his hatchet and returned it to his belt, and headed for the blacksmith shop.

He walked through the town and was about to go into the shop. That was an impossibility, however, as something was preventing him.

Standing in front of the doors of the blacksmith shop stood a herd of goats. The leader pawed his hoofs into the ground, and a couple of them sharpened their horns on some rocks. They bleated menacingly.

"AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" screamed Will. He lost all reasoning and ran.

The end.

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